Chantelle Varnado
Meet the Spark
Chantelle’s crew. From left front, dad Danny Ballard, mom Jama Scivicque, Chantelle, husband Brad Varnado, stepmother Sue Ballard. In back from left, sister Mishaux Ramirez and Varnado children Braden and Addison.
“You always want to move forward.”
A bit of background.
Varnado has always been in a hurry to get things done. She graduated from Denham Springs High School at 17 and then, three years later, completed a bachelor’s degree in Speech, Language and Hearing at Southeastern Louisiana University. At the age of 20, she was the youngest SELU graduate back then.
Varnado wasted no time in earning her master’s in Communication Sciences and Disorders from Southeastern and then began working in the Livingston Parish School System, first as a therapist and later as a diagnostician.
The once-mysterious Ms. McIntyre was her first supervisor and, more than that, her mentor. Under her guidance, Chantelle’s eyes were opened to the children she served and their families—working with people who had little money and few resources to help their kids with disabilities. The only services available to them came through the school system.
Varnado worked for eight years in Livingston’s schools and another three at a hospital in Virginia; her husband, Brad Varnado, was a paper goods engineer. When the family returned to Livingston Parish, Chantelle fulfilled a commitment she’d made to herself, earning a doctorate in Communications Sciences and Disorders from Louisiana State University.
Although she’d carried out pioneering research during graduate school, Chantelle’s desire to become a professor had waned, and she did not want to go back to working in schools again.
“You always want to move forward,” Varnado insists. But which way was forward?
Dream on!
One fitful night, Chantelle began to pray, hoping divine guidance would illuminate the path ahead. When the sun rose the next morning, she knew her mission: to start a nonprofit for children with disabilities living in Livingston Parish and nearby areas. Before her husband fixed his first cup of coffee, Chantelle had named the nonprofit Launch Therapy and chosen a logo: a rocket ship.
Chantelle knew that Launch would meet a distressing need in her community. She’d witnessed the strain on working parents whose jobs didn’t afford them the time to ferry their children back and forth for therapy sessions in Baton Rouge. Too often, the children went undiagnosed until they started school, missing precious years of treatment when their brains were forming critical neural pathways for learning and speaking
Without help, children like these could fail to achieve the upward momentum needed to make a future for themselves. Kids in Livingston Parish deserved better.
Chantelle opened Launch in a church on weekdays when it wasn’t in use, working with parents who couldn’t afford private insurance. Nearly 90% of the children Launch serves qualify for Medicaid.
But demand was even greater than expected, forcing Launch to move to a bigger location within the first two years. More and more parents brought their children to Chantelle. And, once again, Launch had to expand, branching to another location before finally consolidating on Range Avenue in 2022. Still, it wasn’t enough; how would Launch ever meet the needs of so many more?
Varnado has a plan, along with the work ethic to make sure it gets done. Launch hired Coleman Partners to design a 13,000-square-foot therapy center on Veterans Boulevard in Denham Springs. With the help of generous folks, grateful for what Launch has done, the nonprofit is raising $4.5 million in private funds to build the center.
Chantelle has set a date for landing: 2025, when Launch celebrates turning 10.
“You always want to move forward.”
Where were her classmates always going with that enigmatic woman, the one who was all things beautiful, benevolent, and wise? Chantelle watched as she would slip discreetly into the classroom, her hair golden like Barbie’s, and take one of the children away. Later, the kid would come back with a smile, clutching some trinket or a badge.
“It just seemed like the greatest thing,” says Varnado.
The mystery unfolded that year. Chantelle learned that her new idol wasn’t a teacher at all. Her name was Marianne McIntyre, and she was the school’s speech therapist—a healer, Chantelle understood, who untied tongues and liberated words locked up in her classmates’ minds.
“This was my initial impression: I want to be a speech therapist. I want to do whatever that pretty woman did,” Chantelle recalls. “And guess what? She ended up being my first boss in the Livingston Parish School System.”
Varnado is single-minded and persistent. “It was the first thing I wanted to do, and I never deviated from it.”
After earning her doctorate in speech therapy from LSU, Chantelle Varnado went on to create a treatment center called Launch Therapy, providing care for children with disabilities. In eight quick years, the center has grown to care for more than 400 children, with 250 more on a waitlist eager for services.
In that short time, Launch outgrew four locations. Now Varnado and friends are raising $4.5 million to build a new place in Livingston Parish—nearly doubling the center’s capacity and boosting her staff to more than three dozen.
Launch’s proposed facility on Veterans Boulevard is designed to be the best in the state—a model, right here in Livingston, for helping kids with disabilities soar above their limitations.